Some people are emotionally inept
unable to feel, unable to know
what a heart's intelligence bestows
Unable to look past the structure and frame
to truly explore, every cranny and lane
they just don't know, yet they know everything
Everything down nothing lane
without streets covered and stained
in misery and pain and sunlight appearing from not a thing
They drive past windows and doors
they overlook the cracks in the bricks and floors
not noticing the details along the walls
they are just your everyday know it alls
They miss out on the substance and awe
the epiphanies inside the porcelain dolls
the locks and keys hidden beneath trash and flaws
never to second guess it all
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